Page 4 of Dragon Rivals of New York (Dragons of New York #3)
Chapter 4
Jethro
I wink at Kyro and squeeze his hand just to aggravate him. I can’t decide what I think about him claiming Sora’s his mate. Kyro isn’t the type to lie. No matter how much I dislike him, the man has principles. He wouldn't lie about something as sacred as a fated mate.
He jerks his hand free, scowls, and wipes his palm on his pants. Predictable jackass.
If he wants to treat me like crap, that’s fine. I’ll be crap to him. The kind that sticks to his shoe and ruins his life.
I don’t know why the man hates me so much. It’s more than just the normal animosity between the Silver Horde and the Gold Horde. His hatred for me is personal. Even after my best friend Cyrus joined his horde and we started seeing each other around more regularly, Kyro stayed nothing but hostile .
He looks around the dance floor, eyes wide, shoulders tense. Like a tiger thrown in water, there’s a panic he tries to hide behind narrowed lips and a glare. I’ve heard Finley tease him about what a terrible dancer he is before, so I know this isn’t his scene. Good. I grin.
Sora loves to dance. And this is where I shine.
With her hand in mine, I spin her into me, so close her breasts press against my chest. She melts, and it widens my grin. No matter how many times she tells me she doesn’t want a relationship, her body always responds with the same eagerness to my touch. I bring my hands to her hips, and she circles hers around my neck.
I want to ask her if she’s decided whether she’ll bond with me, but this isn’t the place for it. And Kyro complicates things. Can she bond with both of us? Will she have to choose? What will choosing only one of us do to the other one?
Too many questions for right now. So I just relax and let our bodies speak.
The music pounds a steady, drum-driven beat. Our hips sway, bodies moving fluidly. She’s water washing over stone, cleansing the stress of the day with the way she moves against me. Every cell wakes up. Alert to her touch, her movements, her little sighs barely audible over the loud music.
Around us, couples and small groups grind against each other, but they all keep a little distance, which might be because of Kyro standing a foot away, arms crossed, gaze dark, like he’s contemplating my murder. He doesn’t bother dancing, but he doesn’t leave us alone either.
Just to be irritating, I crook my finger at him. “Join us.”
As expected, he stays where he is. Fine with me. I’d prefer having Sora all to myself, anyway.
I spin her around, her back to my chest, and graze a hand across her flat stomach. She drops her head back on my shoulder, eyes closing as she loses herself to the rhythm of the music. I stare Kyro down as I work one hand up to her breast and the other down to cup her sex. She’s so caught up in the dance, in us, that she holds my wrist and moves my hand lower.
Kyro growls, nostrils flaring, a puff of hot smoke shrouding his face. His jaw clenches. He’s so tense he’s gonna give himself a heart attack. Not that I care. The unfriendly giant dropping dead would be rather helpful. He’s gonna have to get on board with sharing real fast if he wants this to work. Because I have no intention of letting my mate get away. The only way I’m going to give her up is if she demands I leave her alone—something she did a year ago. But I worked myself back into her life. And I’ll do it again. No matter how many times I have to .
Smirking at Kyro, I rub my palm between Sora’s legs. My mate lets out a whimpering moan.
In one step, Kyro’s on us. He grabs my wrists and rips my hands off of Sora, pinning them to my sides. There aren’t a lot of men who can manhandle me like this, but his hold is strong enough to keep me from lifting my arms, effectively locking me in place.
He leans over Sora’s shoulder so his lips are right at my ear. “Don’t. Touch. My mate.”
His deep voice rattles through me.
“What are you going to do about it?” I reply, grinding my hips against Sora’s ass.
“Stop fighting.” Sora pushes against Kyro’s chest. “I don’t need you two making a scene right now. This is Finley’s bachelorette party, and we’re supposed to be having fun.”
Kyro doesn’t let me go. I don’t try to get away.
“Sorry, lovely.” I kiss the tender skin behind her ear. “We’ll behave, won’t we, Kyro?”
His claws dig into my wrists, a sharp pain, but he nods and grunts an affirmation.
“Let’s make our girl feel good, shall we?” I lock eyes with my nemesis, my rival, the man who shares my mate .
His brow wrinkles like he’s confused.
“Haven’t you ever made a woman come on the dance floor, Ky?”
Sora gulps in a breath. “You can’t—”
“Oh, but I can.” I suck on her exposed neck, pressing myself into her hard enough to send her hips right into Kyro. “If the giant here would just let go of my hands…?”
He jerks his hands away, almost like he didn’t realize he was still touching me until that moment.
“You once told me you want to experience everything you were told was forbidden,” I whisper in Sora’s ear, dragging my fingertips along the hem of her skirt.
Her head tilts up, and she looks at Kyro, who’s staring at her like she hung the stars. Yeah, he’s not lying about being her mate. His expression holds the same emotions I feel. It would be difficult to fake that kind of authenticity.
“Should I get you off while you’re in the arms of another man? While he dances with you? Kisses you? Would you like that, lovely? That would be an experience, wouldn’t it?”
She bites her lip. Kyro’s throat bobs as he swallows. Sora’s nod is almost imperceptible, like she’s afraid to admit what she wants. I pause, waiting for Kyro’s acknowledgement that he’s okay with this. I may dislike the man, but if this is going to work, I’m damn well going to make sure we’re both okay with anything that happens right now.
“Is this what you want?” he asks, even though she’s already given me her consent. “Use your words.”
I might like him just a little more for checking in with her again and making her say what she needs.
Her nod is slow, but definitive. “Yes.”
His jaw ticks when he looks at me, and he dips his chin.
I don’t hesitate before undoing the button on her skirt and sliding my hand back and forth along the top of her panties. She’s standing close enough to Kyro that my knuckles graze his hard length. He hisses and moves back an inch, but stays close enough to block us from view.
His hands fall to her hips as he awkwardly sways. Finley wasn’t lying about his poor dance skills. But Sora doesn’t seem to mind. Probably because my hand is moving down now, into her skirt, under her blue silk panties.
My fingers slide easily along her wet center. “Oh sweet goddess, you’re drenched for us.”
Flames burn in Kyro’s eyes as his dragon nature comes to the surface. He tugs her a little closer, away from me, but with my hand where it is, he just presses my wrist against his groin. Damn, he’s hung. He’s not bad to look at either. If he was any other man, I’d probably be happy about being mated to the same woman.
But he’s not any other man. The smoke huffing from his nose and the dangerous glare he’s giving me tells me he’s not at all happy about the placement of my hand.
I probably shouldn’t push him. But I’m not the type to back off. As I make slow circles around my mate’s clit, I slant my wrist so it presses more firmly against Kyro. He bares his teeth at me. But when Sora moans, letting us know she’s liking exactly what I’m giving her, Kyro huffs out a breath and doesn’t pull away. If our girl likes this angle, this pressure, that’s what she’ll get.
“Kiss me,” Sora says.
Kyro bends and slants his head, kissing her with a softness that surprises me. All I’ve ever seen from him is tension, grunts, and keeping his distance. This tenderness is shocking. And it fascinates me.
Sora’s body tenses, and I know she’s close. I've seen her come four times before—all on the same night. But the memory of how she looks, feels, moves when she climaxes is branded on my soul. I want so badly to dip my fingers inside her sweet cunt and feel her tighten around me, but I keep up what I’m doing. Same pressure, same movement, giving her exactly what she needs.
Her trembling has my skin heating and my cock pulsing painfully against my jeans. But this isn't about me.
She pulls back from the kiss and tilts her head to bury her face in my neck as she comes undone.
Shaking, she slumps between us.
“Beautiful,” Kyro says with awe.
“Gorgeous,” I echo.